What Would Mario Do?
by empresslars
Summary: Rachel was supposed to be at a party, enjoying her independence. Instead, she's stuck dragging a very drunk Puck through the streets of Lima. This is NOT how she'd expected to spend her Saturday night. Rated T for language.


**Author's Note: **Engagement? What engagement? For the purposes of this story, Finn never proposed to Rachel.

* * *

><p>From across the cafeteria, Rachel watched Finn stare at Quinn Fabray with a look of total adoration on his face. She couldn't recall the last time she'd seen him look at <em>her<em> that way. Rachel felt no ill will towards the pair; although she and Finn had only broken up two weeks before, she knew that the clock had started ticking on their relationship as soon as she'd received her acceptance letter from NYADA. Still, no one likes seeing their ex move on, and Rachel was no exception. She glanced down quickly to avoid being caught spying on the happy new couple, and began stabbing at her salad with her fork.

"It is pretty disgusting, isn't it?" Mercedes commented as she set her lunch tray down across from Rachel. "They're so damn cute it makes me want to vomit. They don't have to rub it in your face, though."

"Well, I'm sure they're not doing it on purpose, Mercedes," Rachel said. "I can hardly expect Finn to avoid being affectionate with his new girlfriend just to spare my feelings."

"I guess. But they didn't have to sit at a table directly in your line of vision, either," Mercedes said, raising her eyebrows pointedly. "Anyway, forget about Barbie and Ken. What are you doing tomorrow?"

Rachel shrugged. "It's Saturday, so I have ballet in the morning. Why?"

Mercedes popped a tater tot into her mouth. "You remember my cousin Jon? Well, he's home from college this weekend and some of his buddies are having a party. He told me to invite some friends. You should come, it'll be fun!"

A college party with random boys hardly sounded like Rachel's idea of fun. Her dads were out of town for the weekend on a business trip, and she had been planning to spend some alone time celebrating her independence by doing things she hadn't been able to do while she was dating Finn, like baking her favorite bittersweet chocolate and pear cake (he thought fresh fruit and chocolate together was "weird") and watching Streisand movies (he'd fallen asleep every time she'd tried to watch _Funny Girl _with him).

"I don't know," she replied doubtfully.

"Come on, Rachel," Mercedes coaxed, "You won't even have to drive." Her eyes lit up. "Ooh, I'll pick you up after your ballet class, and we'll make a whole day of it! We can do a spa day at my house, and then go to the party."

"Did I hear someone say 'spa day'?" Kurt asked as he sat down beside Mercedes. He squinted at Rachel critically. "Your pores _do_ look a little large."

Frowning, Rachel started digging into her purse for a mirror. "Mercedes is trying to convince me to go to a party tomorrow night," she explained as she examined her face in her compact (her pores were _just fine_, thank you very much). She snapped the compact shut. "But I don't even know the hosts."

"So? You know _us," _Kurt said. "And it's a house party, not Will and Kate's wedding. They're not going to kick you out if you don't have an invitation."

"Anyway, you've met Jon before," Mercedes argued. "And remember Rob Snow? He graduated last year. It's gonna be at his house."

Rachel vaguely recalled Rob. He'd been on the basketball team with Finn, which brought up another concern. "But that means Finn and Quinn will probably be at the party too." She glanced over at the couple and grimaced. "I see them enough at school; I was looking forward to a little break."

A tray clattered on to the table next to Rachel. "You guys talking about Rob's party?" Puck asked as he slid onto the bench beside her.

Rachel nodded. "Are you going as well?"

Puck devoured a quarter of his cheeseburger in one bite and nodded as he chewed. "'Course. 'Snot a party without the Puckerone." Rachel rolled her eyes. "Anyway, if you're worried about Finn and the Ice Queen, they won't be there. Finn told me Quinn's mom is making them go to some charity thing she's sponsoring."

"See?" Mercedes said triumphantly. "Now you have no excuse."

"Besides," Kurt said, "you can't spend Saturday night wallowing alone. Maybe you'll meet someone at the party and you can have a drunken fling."

"Jon _did _tell me that he thought you were cute," said Mercedes. She clasped her hands together and looked pleadingly at Rachel. "Will you _please _say you'll come? Pretty please?"

Rachel looked at Puck, who shrugged his shoulders. Well, she supposed Kurt had a point (about the wallowing, not the drunken fling), and she _was_ rather touched by the effort Mercedes was putting in to cheering her up. "Okay, fine," Rachel said, breaking into a smile. "I'll go."

"Yay!" Kurt exclaimed, clapping his hands lightly. "Now, what are you going to wear?"

Puck finished off the last bite of his burger. "Yeah, I'm out," he said, standing up and picking up his tray. "See you later."

Rachel turned to say goodbye, but as she did her eyes fell on Finn and Quinn, who were now full-on making out at their table. Her face fell, all her excitement about the party completely gone. Puck glanced over as well.

"Hey," he said softly, touching her shoulder lightly. "Remember what I said?"

Rachel nodded. "Forget them." (Well, that wasn't _exactly _what he'd said, but she wasn't going to repeat his actual words out loud.)

Puck grinned. "Close enough. Hey, I'm glad you're going to the party, it'll be fun. I'll teach you how to play beer pong."

"Gross," Rachel said, wrinkling her nose. "Beer pong is highly unsanitary. I fail to see any reason why I should learn how to play."

He chuckled. "I'm sure even the kids at your fancy-pants college play beer pong at parties."

His thumb was still lightly grazing her shoulder, although he didn't seem to realize it. She tried to ignore the pleasant thrill that coursed up her spine. She cleared her throat, and he stepped away, shooting her a smile and wink as he walked away.

Rachel stared at his retreating back. That didn't mean anything, right? Of course it didn't, it was _Puck._ Flirting was his default mode. _He's just your friend, Rachel,_ she told herself sternly.

While she and Finn had dated, she'd ended up spending a lot of time with Puck too, and they had gotten pretty close. He made her laugh and helped loosen her up, and she liked to think that she helped him be less of an ass. After the break-up, she'd expected that her friendship with Puck would inevitably end as well, but to her surprise, he had actually made an effort to hang out with her. But lately, they kept having these _moments_ – his hand would linger on her waist a beat too long during Glee practice, or he'd catch her eye in the hallway and his smile would make her knees feel weak – that made her think that maybe there could be something _more_.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and turned back to Kurt and Mercedes, who had been so deep in their own conversation that they'd paid no attention to Puck and Rachel. "So, what's the plan for tomorrow?"

* * *

><p>Rachel had to admit that she was having a much better time at the party than she'd expected. When they'd arrived at the house, she had told herself that she had to stay for two hours, and if she wasn't having a good time then she could fake a headache and leave. However, she was actually enjoying herself. The crowd was a mix of college students and other kids from McKinley and Carmel, so she didn't feel too out of place. She chatted with Mike and Tina, debated with Kurt about what songs to request the DJ to play, danced with Jon, and then Puck had found her and insisted on giving her the beer pong lesson he'd promised (the game <em>was<em> as gross and unsanitary as she had expected it to be, although Puck claimed that the only reason she didn't like it was because she sucked at it).

She should have known that the fun wouldn't last.

By midnight, the party was in full swing, and quite a large crowd had packed into the house. On her way back from the bathroom, she weaved her way through the bodies and ended up walking straight into Finn. Quinn was beside him, her arm looped possessively through his. Rachel greeted the pair politely and apologized for bumping into him, and continued on her way. She kept picturing Quinn's sly little grin though, and before she knew it, she was heading out the kitchen door into the backyard.

The cool air was a pleasant contrast to the stuffiness inside the house. Rachel took a seat on the stoop and looked up at the night sky. Although she was getting used to seeing Finn and Quinn together at school, bumping into them unexpectedly had thrown her off-balance. She took a few deep breaths to compose herself, and resolved not to let them ruin her night. Standing up, she brushed the dust off the seat of her pants. As she stood poised to open the door, she paused. Something was off, but she couldn't quite place what it was until she realized that she could no longer hear the bass pounding through the door. Suddenly, the knob began to turn in her hand, and she stepped back, startled.

"Rachel?" It was Mercedes' cousin Jon. He stepped on to the stoop, shutting the door behind him. "What are you doing out here?"

"I just needed a little air," she explained. "What's going on? Why did the music stop?"

Jon grimaced. "Well, I guess it got a little loud, and the neighbors complained. The cops are here."

"_What_? But where are you going?"

"Home. My parents live around the corner." He grinned at her. "Wanna come? I can bring you home later."

Rachel shook her head. "No, thank you. I should go find my friends."

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "See you around." He disappeared around the corner.

Rachel stood frozen in place, panic slowly building. _The police? Was it safe to go back in and find her friends? What if it wasn't, and she got caught?_ _Would NYADA still take her if she had a criminal record? Does her makeup still look okay (because if she was going to have to take a mug shot, she'd prefer it to be more Paris Hilton and less Gary Busey)?_

She stepped off of the stoop and then paused, torn between going to find her friends inside or making a run for it. Suddenly, she heard the door open and she felt a hand grasp her arm. _Oh no, she's been caught!_ She whirled around and sagged in relief when she saw Puck standing beside her.

"You all right?" he asked, letting go of her arm.

"The _police _are here, Noah. What should we _do_? I can't go to _jail_, _I have too much talent to waste!_" Her voice was steadily rising in pitch.

"Chill, Berry." He did not appear very concerned. "We can hop the fence over there," he said, pointing across the yard, "and we'll lay low until the cops leave."

"But what about our friends?"

"I told Kurt and Mercedes that I'd get you home. You live near here, right?" Rachel nodded. "Cool. We can walk to your house, and you can drop me off at Mike's. I left my truck there."

They headed across the yard and stopped at the wooden fence, which was about six feet high. Rachel tipped her head back to examine the fence, and then looked at Puck a little dubiously. "I don't know if this is a very good idea."

"We got this. I'll give you a boost and then I'll climb over," Puck says, setting a half-full bottle of Jack Daniels on the ground. Rachel gave him a disapproving look. "What? It would've just been confiscated anyway. Rob won't mind that I took it." He clasped his hands together and bent down, then looked up at her expectantly.

Rachel was glad Kurt had convinced her to wear jeans to the party. She slipped out of her heels and tossed them over the fence. She contemplated tossing her clutch over as well, but decided against it, and instead slipped the wrist strap as far up her arm as she could. Placing a hand on Puck's shoulder, she stepped on to his joined hands. As he lifted her up, she pulled herself up and over the fence, landing neatly in another backyard. She looked up at the house, which remained dark, to her relief. It seemed that her trespassing had gone unnoticed.

"Hey," Puck hissed from the other side of the fence. "Take the bottle."

Rachel reached up to grab the whiskey, and then bent down to find her shoes as Puck climbed over the fence to join her. After handing him the bottle, she glanced around her new surroundings while she put her shoes back on. The backyard was spacious, with a seating area on the patio and a white gazebo in one corner. Something niggled in the back of her mind.

"This backyard looks really familiar," she whispered.

She was sure she'd seen it before, in the daytime; she had a distinct memory of chatting with Mrs. Puckerman on the porch, and of ducking behind the gazebo to avoid Jacob Ben Israel. Her eyes widened. "Noah, this is _Rabbi Grossman's_ backyard. We have to get out here!"

Puck shook his head. "No, this is the perfect place to hide. Who'd bother the rabbi in the middle of the night? Still, we should probably stay out of sight." He examined the backyard for a suitable place. "Maybe over there, near those bushes," he said, pointing.

Rachel glanced at the bushes growing along the side of the house and nodded in agreement. As they settled on the ground to wait, she shivered and wrapped her arms around her knees. Although it was spring, it was a fairly chilly night, and she'd left her jacket in Kurt's car.

Puck unbuttoned his flannel shirt and took it off, revealing a white short-sleeved t-shirt underneath. The thin fabric fit snugly across his broad chest and flat stomach, and Rachel looked down at her feet to stop herself from staring.

"Here," he said, holding the long-sleeved shirt out to her.

"I can't take your shirt," Rachel protested. "You'll get cold."

Puck scoffed. "Please. I'm all _man,_ baby, I'll be fine. Besides," he added, holding up the whiskey, "I've got this to keep me warm. Unless you can think of another way." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Rachel rolled her eyes but took the offered shirt without further argument. She slipped it on over her own thin blouse, and instantly felt much warmer. They chatted about the party for awhile, and Puck teased Rachel about her lack of beer pong skills. She pretended not to notice him trying to suppress a shiver, and it wasn't long before he unscrewed the lid on the bottle and took a swig. She shook her head when he tipped the bottle in her direction.

After a few minutes of silence, Puck cleared his throat. "Hey, uh, I saw Finn and Quinn back there. Did you…"

Rachel nodded. "I ran into them, yes."

"Sorry about that. I swear, Finn told me yesterday that they weren't going. You okay?"

"I'm fine," Rachel replied with a sigh. "It just caught me off-guard, I suppose."

Puck took another swig from the bottle. "So…are you still, like, in love with him, or whatever?"

"No, it's not that. I want him to be happy. It's just…why does it have to be with _her_?"

Puck blinked, then let out a bark of laughter. "Seriously?"

Annoyed, Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes. Why is that so funny? Quinn _hates _me. I think she takes pleasure in flaunting their relationship in front of me."

"Babe, I _know_ she does," he said with a chuckle. "After you, Quinn's probably the most competitive girl I know. She thinks she won, so now she wants to shove it in your face."

"'Thinks' she won?" Rachel repeated. "Considering the fact that Finn has spent the last week trying to clean her tonsils with his tongue, I'm pretty sure she _did _win, Noah."

Puck shrugged. "Depends on your definition of winning. Soon you'll be off to New York, living your dream and making Broadway your bitch. What does Quinn have? An overgrown man-child who seriously believed a sandwich was granting him wishes."

Rachel giggled, then, remembering that they were supposed to be hiding, hurriedly covered her mouth with her hand. He grinned at her and took another gulp of whiskey. She heard a faint buzzing sound and realized that it was coming from her clutch. Pulling her phone out, she answered it quietly. "Hello?"

It was Mercedes. "Hey, Rachel, are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine, I'm with Noah," she replied.

"Oh, good, he found you," said Mercedes, sounding relieved. "We're all okay too. Where are you?"

"We're hiding out in Rabbi Grossman's backyard until the coast is clear," she answered a little sheepishly.

"You should be okay now. It looked like they were clearing out when we took off, and that was at least five minutes ago."

"Oh, good," Rachel said. "The ground is starting to get really uncomfortable."

"Well, do you need a ride? We can swing back and come get you guys."

Rachel considered the offer. Really, they were only about a ten-minute walk from her own house; it seemed a little silly to wait for Kurt and Mercedes when they were so close. "No," she decided. "I think we'll just walk."

"Okay, if you're sure," Mercedes said. "Text me when you get home though, to let me know you're safe, okay?"

Rachel smiled at her friend's thoughtfulness. "I will. Tell Kurt to drive safely." She ended the call and turned to Puck. "Well, it looks like we can get going!"

"Awesome!" Puck said loudly. "Oops! Shhh!" He put his finger to his lips. He tried to push himself up, and then _giggled _when he fell back on to his rear end.

Rachel glanced down at the now-empty bottle beside Puck's foot, and back up at his suspiciously bright eyes.

Oh, dear. This might be a little more difficult than she had anticipated.

Rachel grabbed the bottle and helped Puck stand up. She led him along the side of the house, depositing the bottle into the trash bin by the gate. Propping him up against the wall, she quietly unlatched the gate and peeked outside. It looked like the coast was clear, so she motioned for Puck to follow her out.

As they walked along the sidewalk, Puck reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. Startled, she looked up at him, but he continued walking, humming cheerfully. While Rachel had frequently seen Puck drink, she didn't think she'd ever seen him _drunk_.

"Um, Noah," she began cautiously, "perhaps I should just drive you home tonight. I can take you to pick up your truck in the morning."

Puck shook his head. "I don't wanna go home. I'd be by myself, and I don't wanna be…_AAALL BY MYSE-E-ELF_." He sung the last few words loudly.

Rachel immediately clapped her free hand over his mouth. While she was always up for a Celine song, she didn't think the neighbors would appreciate it very much, especially since it was after midnight. Puck licked her palm, and laughed when she pulled her hand away with a disgusted squeal. They turned the corner, and Rachel tugged on Puck's hand to direct him towards the park. Once they cut across it, they'd only be a few blocks away from her house.

"We're going to the park? Cool, I wanna go down the slide!" Puck released her hand and stumbled toward the playground.

Sighing, Rachel followed after him. Perhaps if she let him play in the playground for awhile, he'd tire himself out and let her take him home (she'd never before realized how similar drunk people were to toddlers). Still, she didn't blame him for being excited about the playground – it _was_ pretty wonderful. It was designed to look like a castle, with towers and plastic "stone" walls. Her fathers had taken her here often when she was a child, and she used to stand at the highest "tower" with a jump rope tied to her ponytail and pretend that she was Rapunzel.

By the time she reached the playground, Puck had already gone down the highest slide twice, and he was poised at the top again. "Hi, Rachel! You should go down too!" He snickered at his own joke, then sat down and slid to the bottom. He looked up at her, clearly waiting for her to do the same.

Well, why not? She climbed to the top of the slide, and slid down, giggling. She was careful to stop herself a few feet away from the end of the slide so as not to run into Puck, who still sat at the bottom.

Rachel scooted down the slide and settled in next to him, then elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't you know proper playground etiquette? You're supposed to move out of the way before the next person goes down the slide."

Puck leaned back onto the slide, resting one arm beneath his head. "I'm a badass, I move for no one."

He looked up at her expectantly. Shrugging, she laid down beside him. Rachel stared up at the starry sky, on a slide in a playground she'd played in her entire life, beside a boy that – well, that she cared for, and she felt sad. In a few short months, she'd be leaving for New York, and she wouldn't have any of those things, not even the stars.

Puck nudged her shoulder with his own. "What?"

She didn't look at him. "Nothing…it's just, I've always wanted to get as far away from Lima as I could, and now that I'm leaving…I think I'll miss it more than I ever thought I would."

"Huh."

Rachel laughed at his typically terse reply. "What are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking, what would've happened if Schue never took over Glee Club? Like, we probably wouldn't ever have gotten to be friends. We wouldn't be sitting here right now." He paused, considering it. "Whoa."

It was a rather interesting thought, Rachel agreed. Although she hadn't always seen eye-to-eye with Mr. Schuester and she'd had her ups-and-downs with her fellow Glee members, being a part of New Directions had defined her high school experience. She couldn't imagine what her life would have been like without it. "Well, I'm glad he did."

"Me too," Puck replied. He began fumbling around in his pocket. Pulling out his phone, he started scrolling through his contact list.

"Noah? Who are you calling?"

He rolled his eyes. "Mr. Schue," he said, as if it should have been obvious. "We totally need to thank him for Glee Club. And seriously, he's been, like, my only male role model, and that shit's important for a guy, you know?"

Rachel snatched the phone from his hand before he could hit the 'send' button. Somehow she doubted Mr. Schuester would appreciate a phone call from a drunk student at one in the morning.

"Hey!" Puck protested.

She tucked the phone into her pocket. "Trust me, Noah," she said. "I'm sure Mr. Schuester would be very pleased to hear what you have to say, but he's probably asleep right now. As _I_ should be. How about I hold on to your phone, and you can call him tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, that makes sense," he agreed. "You're so smart, Rachel."

Rachel laughed. Although the night hadn't gone quite as she had expected, at least it had turned out to be quite entertaining. "Thank you, Noah, for convincing me to go out today. And for coming to my rescue and saving me from the police."

Puck shrugged. "'S no problem, it's what Mario would do." Abruptly, he pushed himself up off the slide and stood up. "I wanna go down the slide again," he said, heading back toward the ladder.

Rachel scrambled up. "Wait, Noah, who's Mario? What does – oh my _God, _what are you _doing_?" Horrified, she watched as he stood on the platform and started to unbutton his jeans.

"I gotta take a leak," he explained.

"You can't just" – she looked around and dropped her voice to a furious whisper – "_urinate_ in the playground!"

"Why not?" He held her gaze, daring her to stop him, and then pulled his pants down. She whirled around quickly and stomped out of the sandbox (at least she tried to stomp – the sand rather ruined the effect she was going for) and stood on the grass.

She waited for him to finish and listened for the sound of his zipper before turning back around.

"You are vile," she informed him.

He merely grinned back at her before going down the slide. As he walked over to join her, Rachel pulled a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer out of her purse. She glared at him until he held out his hands, and she squirted a small amount of the gel into his palm. He obediently rubbed his hands together, and then gave her an innocent smile.

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm still mad at you. Let's go."

They walked across the park and into her neighborhood. Still irritated, Rachel refused to look at Puck, and so she walked nearly half a block before she realized that he was no longer beside her. She turned back to see him hugging the signpost on the corner, apparently attempting to climb it. Heaving a weary sigh, she walked over to him.

"What on _earth_ are you doing, Noah?"

He slid down the pole. "Trying to steal the sign."

"Okay," she replied with a patience she definitely did not feel. "_Why?"_

"Because you're mad at me," Puck explained, "and I know you've always wanted it. You could hang it up in your dorm room."

Taken aback, Rachel looked up and realized that he'd been trying to take the sign for Rising Star Drive. She'd always loved the street name, for obvious reasons, but she was surprised that he'd remembered (she'd told him about it years ago). She wavered, sorely tempted.

"We really shouldn't steal the sign. It would be wrong." Her voice sounded unconvincing even to herself.

Puck grinned at her. "I'll give you a boost."

He'd already managed to loosen the bolts, so Rachel was able to remove the sign fairly easily. She hopped down and held it up triumphantly. "We did it!"

She clapped her hand over her mouth and looked around. The street was still deserted, but Rachel figured that they probably shouldn't linger, so she hugged the sign to her chest with one hand, grabbed Puck's hand with the other, and ran down the street. They made it to her house without further incident.

She managed to get Puck up the stairs and into the guest room. Ordering him to stay put, she sent a quick text to Mercedes as she went into her room to change into her pajamas. She stopped in her fathers' room to grab some sweatpants before heading back to the guest room, where she found Puck sprawled out on the bed in his boxers, his jeans and t-shirt left in a pile on the floor. She folded his clothes neatly and set them on the dresser, along with the flannel shirt he'd lent her.

"Noah? I brought you some sweats to sleep in," she said, setting them down at the foot of the bed.

"Don't want 'em," Puck grunted, "too hot." He pulled at waistband of his boxers.

Rachel glared. "Don't you _dare,_ Noah. Those sheets are Ralph Lauren."

"750-thread count? Nice," he muttered, stroking the bed.

She giggled. Sometimes his Sheets 'N Things knowledge came out at the weirdest times. "Well, good night then," she said, turning to go.

Puck rolled over and looked up at her. "Don't leave," he said.

"Why not?"

"Stay with me."

"What?" Rachel yelped. "No!"

Puck pouted. "How 'bout a kiss, then?"

She sat down at the foot of the bed. "You're drunk, Noah," she replied with a sigh. "I'd be taking advantage of you."

"Not that drunk."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "You can barely keep your eyes open."

"So?" He frowned. "Don't you like me?"

"Of course I do, Noah," she said. She stared up at the ceiling. "Probably more than I should, actually, since you're one of my best friends. But I don't want to be just a drunken fling, I – I want more than that." Oops, maybe she'd said too much. She glanced back at Puck, who appeared to have fallen asleep.

His eyes opened and he looked at her in confusion. "Huh?"

"That's still a no," she clarified.

"But I want you to," Puck insisted stubbornly.

Rachel sighed. Well, at least he didn't appear to have heard what she'd said. "Tell you what. In the morning, when you're sober, if you still want to kiss me, you can. Okay?"

He tilted his head to the side as he considered her offer. Finally, he nodded. "Okay." He rolled away from her and scrambled under the covers. "Night, Rach."

"Good night, Noah."

Rachel shut the door quietly behind her. She figured there was no harm done, since he probably wouldn't remember any of this conversation in the morning anyway.

The thought disappointed her more than she thought it should.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Rachel tapped on the door lightly before letting herself in to the guest room. "Noah?" she called softly.<p>

A miserable groan came from somewhere under the tangle of blankets on the bed. "I think I'm dying," Puck moaned.

Rachel couldn't help the smirk that crossed her face. "You're not dying, you big baby. And you call _me_ overdramatic. Here," she added, setting down a glass of water and some aspirin on the nightstand.

Puck emerged from his blanket cocoon and winced at the sunlight streaming in through the windows. He held up one hand to shield his eyes from the light and reached for the aspirin with his other. "You're a lifesaver. What time is it?"

"About nine-thirty."

He tossed the painkillers down with a gulp of water. "Jesus, Berry, it's practically _dawn._ Why are you up so early? More importantly, why are you waking _me_ up so early?"

Rachel shrugged. "I'm an early riser. And I thought you might want to get home before your mother comes off her shift."

"Nah, Sarah had a soccer tournament in Columbus this weekend. They won't be back until tomorrow afternoon." Puck looked around the room in confusion. "Wait, am I in your guest room? How did we get here? Last thing I remember, we were hiding in Rabbi Grossman's bushes." He glanced down at his bare chest and looked back at Rachel, his eyes wide. "And why am I _naked?_"

Rachel rolled her eyes as he pulled the blankets up around his body. "Oh, sure, _now_ you're concerned about modesty. You're not naked, although you tried very hard to be. Luckily, I managed to convince you to keep your boxers on."

Puck shook his head. "I don't remember that. What else happened last night?"

Rachel grinned and sat on the bed. She'd been looking forward to this the whole time she'd spent dragging Puck home. "Well, let's see. When we cut through playground, you insisted that I let you go down the slide."

"The castle slide?" he asked knowingly. "That thing is _awesome."_

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it was fun until you realized that you needed to…_relieve_ yourself, and proceeded to do so, off the side of the playground into the sand."

Puck laughed. "Well, it's not like I'm the first person to piss in that sand. There are probably brats that do it _daily_. Anything else?"

"Well, I had to stop you from drunk-dialing Mr. Schuester, and then you insisted on stealing a street sign." She glanced quickly at him as she told that little fib, but he didn't seem to notice, so she continued. "And then I was able to get you here. I decided it would be best to let you crash here for the night and just drop you off before your mother came home. I didn't realize she was out of town. When I asked you if you wanted to go home, you started singing 'All By Myself.'" She paused, thinking it over. "Oh. That makes a lot more sense now."

"Well, thanks for taking care of me."

"Of course, Noah. What are friends for? And it's the least I could do – without you, I'd probably have stayed in that backyard, not knowing what to do, until the police picked me up." Rachel smiled at him as she stood up to retrieve his clothes from the dresser. "Actually, Noah, I _do _have one question. At the park, I thanked you for saving me from the police, and you said that it was what Mario would do. But I don't get it, who's Mario?"

Puck blinked, then shook his head. "I dunno. I don't remember saying that." He picked up his t-shirt and pulled it on over his head.

That was strange – his ears looked a little red. Was he _blushing_? Rachel dismissed the thought almost immediately. Impossible. Puck considered everything he did to be badass, so he never got embarrassed; there was no way he'd ever blush. It was probably just a trick of the light.

"Okay, well, I'll let you freshen up. You can use the bathroom across the hall – there's an extra toothbrush in the medicine cabinet, and towels if you want to take a shower. I'll go make some coffee and rustle up some breakfast for us, and then we'll get your truck." Puck grunted his assent, and Rachel flashed an amused smile as she left the room.

In the hall, she remembered that Puck's phone was still in her purse, so she grabbed it and stuck it in the pocket of her hoodie before heading downstairs. She put on a pot of coffee to brew and plugged in the electric griddle so that it could heat up while she prepared the pancake batter. Mechanically, she measured out the ingredients as her thoughts wandered to the boy upstairs (currently naked in her shower – _stop that right now, Rachel Berry,_ she scolded herself). It was probably for the best that he didn't remember their conversation, right? It would be a really bad idea for her to kiss him.

No matter how much she may want to.

She pushed that thought aside as she poured the batter onto the griddle into neat circles. A few minutes later, Puck's footsteps thundered down the stairs, and she was able to greet him with a smile when he entered the kitchen. His hair was still a bit damp, and he was wearing his flannel shirt from last night with the sleeves rolled up, revealing his muscular forearms. It was unfair how good he looked, she thought, considering the amount of alcohol he'd consumed.

He headed straight for the coffee maker. "You rock, Berry," he said gratefully, as he grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee. He held the pot up towards her and lifted an eyebrow.

Rachel nodded. "Yes, please."

He added some soy milk and a teaspoon of sugar to the mug and set it down beside her. Pouring another cup for himself, he leaned against the counter next to her and watched as she flipped the pancakes.

"Smells good," he remarked. "You need me to do anything?"

Rachel shook her head. "Nope, these are just about done." She stacked the pancakes onto a plate and turned off the griddle.

"Good," Puck said, setting down his mug.

She turned, intending to get some utensils, and was startled to find him standing right in front of her. She instinctively took a step back, bumping into the island. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of her, boxing her in.

"N-Noah? What are you doing?" she asked, bewildered.

He bent his arms slightly, his body leaning toward hers. "So there I was, in the shower, naked –"

"Yes, that's generally how showers work," she quipped weakly. The warmth of his body so near to her own was kind of turning her brain into mush.

He ignored her interruption. "– and some stuff that happened last night started coming back to me."

Rachel froze. "Oh?" she said, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah. _You_ stole the sign, and you're totally going to keep it."

Relaxing slightly, she smirked up at him. "Of course I'm keeping it. I consider it my reward for dragging you through the streets of Lima."

"I can't believe you tried to blame me," he said, shaking his head. "Oh, and I'm gonna need my phone back. Thanks for _not _letting me drunk dial Mr. Schue, 'cause that would've been kinda weird."

"You're welcome. Although perhaps I should keep it for a while, as punishment for all you put me through last night."

"Or I could distract you and just take it," he countered.

"Distract me? And just how do you intend to do that?"

The sentence was barely out of her mouth when he bent down and pressed his lips against hers. When he wrapped his arms around her, well, Sue Sylvester could have set off a confetti cannon in the kitchen and Rachel wouldn't have noticed.

Puck looked satisfied when he pulled away, and she realized his hand was cupping her right butt cheek. "Noah," she said (just a little breathless), "that's _not _where I put your phone."

He grinned at her and held up his other hand, which _did_ have the phone. "I know."

Disappointed, Rachel pushed at his arm and tried to step away, but he quickly pulled her back towards him. "Hey, wait," he said.

"_Why_, Noah?" She felt so embarrassed, she couldn't even look at him.

"Look, here," he said, sticking the phone back into her pocket. "I don't care about the damn phone, all right? That's not why I kissed you."

"Then why _did _you?"

"Well, it's morning, I'm sober, and you said I could if I still wanted to." He smiled wryly. "Look, I appreciate that you didn't want to take advantage of me last night when I was drunk, but I guess it's probably good that you did. I don't want us to be just a drunken fling either."

Rachel could not stop the smile from spreading across her face. "Really?"

"Yeah. And you should probably know, drunk or sober, I pretty much _always _want to kiss you."

Well, when he put it that way. She slipped her arms around his neck and brought his lips down to meet her own.

* * *

><p>Rachel stood on Puck's front porch and tapped her foot impatiently. She'd texted him to let him know she was on her way to pick him up, but no one had answered the door yet, despite her persistent doorbell-ringing. Frustrated, she tried the doorknob, which turned easily in her hand.<p>

"Hello?" she called as she walked into the house.

"In here," Puck's voice called from the direction of the den. She walked in to find him sprawled on the couch with a video game controller in his hands. She stomped over to the couch and stood over her boyfriend in annoyance.

"Noah! Didn't you hear me ring the doorbell? I told you to be ready! We're supposed to be at the mall at two!"

"Babe, didn't _you_ hear me yell 'come in?' And anyway, you know Mike and Tina are always _at least_ 15 minutes late. We've got plenty of time," he said, tossing the controller aside. He tugged her down into his lap and kissed her soundly. "Hi."

"Hi," she replied with a smile. She knew he was right, so she turned in his lap to face the television and settled against his chest. "So, what are you playing?"

Puck picked up the controller. "Only the best game _ever: _Super Mario World."

"What's it about?"

"You don't know _Super Mario World?" _She shook her head. "Your childhood makes me sad." She stuck her tongue out at him, making him laugh. He took the game out of pause and continued to play as he spoke. "Okay, so the guy with the red hat is Mario. Basically, Princess Peach disappears, and he goes searching for her. It turns out that Bowser kidnapped her, and Mario has to rescue her. That's pretty much what happens in all the Super Mario games."

Rachel recalled his words on the night of Rob's party, and she bit her lip to hide her smile. "Oh, really? So Mario always rescues the Princess?" He nodded, his eyes still on the screen. "And why does he do that?"

Puck shrugged. "I dunno, 'cause he loves her, I guess." He froze when he realized what he'd just said, his ears starting to turn red. "Uh, I mean –"

Rachel grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "It's all right, Noah. I'm pretty sure she feels the same way about him."


End file.
